Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Yet another scene from "A Ranger's Tale"

Since I'm moving soon and don't know what my blog time will look like for a long while, I'll give you yet another scene. Hope you enjoy! Feedback is welcome!

From Chapter 33...

About a mile ahead, we reached the Greenbriar Hills, where outcroppings of white rocks dotted the rolling landscape like toppled pawns on a chessboard. Jayden and I shared fearful glances. The ambush opportunity was great. We were lucky to have clear skies, and few trees, but it was necessary for us to ride far ahead of the caravan to ensure the way was clear.

We approached the first outcropping, where two rock formations flanked the road. A sense of dread mounted inside me. Jayden stared at the ground and motioned for us to stop before we rode between the rocks.

“Cali,” he whispered, “go back to the caravan. Tell the guards to draw arms.”

“Can’t we just turn around?”

“Too late. We’d never outrun them. Go!”

I tugged on the reins and turned Charlot back. When I reached the caravan, I yelled, “Guard the mages!”

The six paladins drew their swords, and flanked in closer to the carriages, surrounding them on all sides. My father leaned out the window of his carriage. “What’s happening?”

“I think your enemies are upon us.”

“Then I will fight.”

His face held a mixture of regret and determination. A fiery spark ignited in his eyes. I caught a glimpse of my father’s renowned power, the magic that Academy students whispered about in the corridors, magic that had once ensured my uncle’s throne. I felt a swell of pride to be his daughter in that moment, but I had no idea what kind of threat we faced. He was some five hundred years old, and had not faced any foes for a very long time.

I readied my bow. “You might have to, but stay in the carriage for now.”

Tension filled the air like a sickening fog. The only sounds were the horses shifting their feet. Not a bird sang. Not a puff of wind blew.

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